Candlelight
by Thyme In Her Eyes
Summary: Bram Stoker's Dracula: Mina and Vlad, as the absinthe swirls and the candles burn low...


Candlelight

by Thyme In Her Eyes

_Author's Note: _I have a feeling you guys are going to hate me for teasing you like this... Anyway, for all those who don't know me by now, this is based on the film _Bram Stoker's Dracula _and is very much a Vlad/Mina story. This one is set during their secret meetings, and takes place some time after the absinthe scene (and unlike most of my stories, this one is a bit of an AU piece). And just to disclaim; I don't own these characters. Enjoy, and please leave feedback if you did.

**-- CANDLELIGHT --**

O Rose, thou art sick!  
The invisible worm  
That flies in the night,  
In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed  
Of crimson joy,  
And his dark secret love  
Does thy life destroy.

– William Blake (The Sick Rose).

**x-x-x**

The candles had burnt down, and the soft lights danced along the rim of Mina's glass and flickered teasingly in the silver of Vlad's dragon ring. The whole world seemed to narrow down to that one private room, the two figures inhabiting it, and the lulling ambiance smoothly washing over them both, and Mina relaxed enough to lean back into the softness of her chair, heavy-lidded and contented. She was adrift and afloat, walking in a strange and heart-crushing world, and yet had never felt so sure, awake and focused. She was almost as potent and alive as her strange friend, and it was almost as if he was imprinting his touch on her soul, such was his influence on her. In the embrace of this quiet interlude, forgotten dreams surrounded her like wisps of an exotic perfume, and she ached for his nearness and brushed all fears aside.

She hardly knew him, and yet she felt as though she had known him forever. She even sensed him in her dreams. In his company, Mina felt so far away and yet so at home, and she savoured every sight the brocaded room and her mysterious, exquisite companion offered her; treasuring the strange sensations humming through her body and mind. Her eyes were like a cat's and never strayed far from his face, just as her thoughts were never far from the quiet intensity with which he gazed on her. She fixed on his eyes, intimate and bold, and thought of how beautiful ice appeared when lit up by flames. He seemed somehow frozen in time and she longed to warm him, a strange sense of protectiveness stealing over her.

The evening had been otherworldly and beautiful; the almost supernatural quality of their encounters rapidly becoming familiar to her. It was less a kiss from a rose than a slow, dragging lick from a poppy, and Mina felt deliriously lost in it. She had gradually learned not to fear him, even as every part of her body screamed that he was somehow a creature as different from her as water was to blood. She had always seen the predator's stalk in his eyes, but now she could see so much more than that as he caressed her with words and images of intense and eternal feeling.

She had stayed for too long, she realized dimly. But she didn't care, not anymore. With him, time meant nothing. And without him, her days were frozen and he haunted her thoughts. She had tried to lie to herself, push down her feelings and stop herself from seeing him, but at that moment she had completely forgotten why. All she wanted was to stay a little longer, to linger in his company for a while yet. The thought was a little mad, and fitted well with her wholly uncharacteristic behavior throughout the day, but she was so happy and could not condemn herself. Perhaps her actions were improper, but clad in crimson and full of warm desire, she felt like an entirely new woman, as if she had been somehow reborn, and in these moments of stepping out of her old self, she was free and far away from all disapproval and judgment.

She often thought about secrets and of the people steeped deep in subterfuge and in hushed deceptions. She thought of secret rooms and those who visited them, of those who ran desperately from the worlds they had known and found refuge in the land unknown. Now Mina touched at the edges of this land, and had sighed with longing as Vlad drew her ever-deeper into its reaches; all her earlier hesitance and trepidation gone. Her tenderness and want were glowing about her and her dark companion gazed at her like one intoxicated.

When she shared this secret room with her dear prince, even though she was cut off from the rest of the world, she was never alone. She had a secret room of her own now, and the music faintly playing there was hauntingly familiar. Somehow, she had become a woman brave enough to venture into those forbidden rooms, and was gradually learning to be daring and defiant enough to experience all those rooms had to offer. They were sealed in together and Mina had never felt less lonely in her entire life.

Like melt-water after winter, tears had bathed her face not long ago, but now she was filled with calm serenity. A river of grief and loss had been flowing inside her, but he had redirected it – in his arms, her face a wet flower at his lips, her tears had been transformed into ones of release.

As a lull fell over their conversation, he set aside his drained glass and Mina almost giggled; belatedly noticing that she couldn't remember seeing him drink of it at all. Her sudden giddy freedom drew a smile from him, and to Mina it felt like a kiss. She returned the smile, and her eyes were wide open and almost luminous. The silence between them was sacred.

He drenched her in an absinthe regard, sending her swirling across centuries and continents. Then he reached out across the length of their small table, and rested a fingertip against her hand. She tenderly returned the gesture, and he took her hand in his.

His eyes were searching for something in hers, and his touch seemed to find it and bring it forth. Something powerful and undeniable was surging between them, and the feel of his hand on hers seemed to reach out to her through a universe of pathos and horrors which she only sensed, but could not understand. When he drew closer to her and grazed his thumb along the back of her hand, she was reminded of how the wolf at the cinematograph had moved, how it had rippled. A terrible and beautiful feeling of recognition swept over her, and she longed to see him move again.

"I like being here," she said softly, almost a whisper.

"Do you desire another glass?" he asked, his voice low and mesmerizing, and so familiar.

Her eyes rested on the bottle of absinthe standing between them and then drifted shut for a moment as she slowly shook her head. When she opened them again and found herself looking steadily into his blue and intense stare, and the compelling and unfathomable things there, there was much she wanted to tell him. She began to say something but grew strangely shy, though she did not withdraw her hand from his.

"What do you desire?" he pursued, very gently.

She was so at ease and never even tried to mask the warm blush rising in her cheeks. She looked away, but smiled composedly. Something drew her gaze back to him, and her breath grew inside her. She was moving into the next chapter of her life, she realized. He was awaking her to all she had been, and could be again. This was who she was, and he was all she desired. And what she desired most was for him to kiss her, and her heart was full of courage.

The candlelight glinted in his eyes, and her heart unclosed like an awakening rose, opening and unveiling itself to him completely and freely. A deep, dark pause filled the air and settled over them as he rose from his seat and approached her, his hand never leaving hers.

**-- FIN --**


End file.
